


'Til Kingdom Come

by flesh



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-30
Updated: 2012-06-30
Packaged: 2017-11-08 21:40:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/447847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flesh/pseuds/flesh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jeff helps Jensen come to terms with his new and perilous position as King.</p>
            </blockquote>





	'Til Kingdom Come

**Author's Note:**

  * For [salty_catfish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/salty_catfish/gifts).



> Written for salty_catfish as part of the 2012 SPN Springfling challenge. Many thanks to riyku for the beta. ♥

The bells began at the hour of the King's death and are still ringing. Jeff has been gritting his teeth against the noise for several hours now. As he walks, the finely woven carpets squelch slightly beneath his boots. The windows and the doors of the Palace are flung wide to allow the King’s spirit to depart, a throwback to a more superstitious age, but a cold, sulky wind has been blowing in rain all morning. The Palace is turned inside and out, and allows no comfort within. 

Six members of the Royal Guard are positioned outside the Prince's chambers. _King_ \- Jeff corrects himself, _Jensen is King now._ They're elite fighters, hand-picked by Jeff himself, but the constricted beat of his heart won't soften until he has the King under his own protection. 

Jensen's chambers are dark. Heavy black curtains are drawn over the two massive floor-to-ceiling windows that form one wall of the room, though the rain and wind are still audible beyond them. Jensen's princely crown, a slim gold band that is far less weighty than he crown he will take at coronation, lies atop his desk. His bed, Jeff notes with grim disapproval, has not been slept in. 

He draws a gap in the curtains and passes through to the private terrace. 

Jensen is not alone, but he might as well be. Another three of the Royal Guard are strategically positioned around him, although in the state Jensen's in, Jeff doesn't think he even knows they're there. His ceremonial black robes flutter around him in the wind, like the ragged wings of crows. His feet are bare on the slick, wet stone. He's facing away from Jeff, towards the ancient gray mountains of the Winterlands. Either through grief or long exposure to the cold, his shoulders are shivering violently. 

Jeff gestures for the guards to leave, and he waits until he's alone with Jensen to speak. 

"Your Majesty, please come inside."

Jensen throws a hand up. "Don't," he bites out, teeth chattering. "Don't start 'Majesty'-ing me. I don't… I don't want…" His words choke off.

He turns around and Jeff's brow draws tight at the sight of him. 

He looks half-dead. He’s soaked through, and his robe clings indecently to his body wherever it touches. His dark eyes have the luminous quality of unshed tears, made more striking still by the surrounding bruised shadows of sleeplessness. Freckles on the bridge of his nose and on his cheeks stand out starkly against the white pallor of his skin. His mouth, - _oh god, the mouth that Jeff has tried so hard not to notice, not to think about, not to picture when he's alone in his quarters at night_ \- is drained of color. He's shaking so hard that Jeff has to stop himself from going to him and wrapping his arms around him simply to hold him still. 

"Please come inside," is all Jeff says. "The Ministers of the Court have been asking to speak with you. I told them you're resting, though you'll have to make an appearance by tomorrow."

"The Ministers of the Court want me dead," says Jensen. That maddeningly pretty mouth of his can look so vicious. 

Jeff considers, then answers truthfully. "Not all of them." 

Jensen scoffs and turns around once more, back to the mountains and the endlessly blank sky. "Enough of them that I can look forward to a future of dodging assassination attempts." 

The rain dribbles through Jeff's hair and into his eyes. It beats dully against his armor, unmusical on the metal. His knee, which was broken years ago during the Dethfell Siege and badly set, twinges in protest at the damp weather. The mourning bells continue to toll. 

Half his life spent hidden away at the Silversleep Monastery has kept Jensen alive, but ill-prepared him for the velvet warfare of the Court. He is not like his father. It was sickness, in the end, that took Jensen's father, and even through that he had clung on to the last scraps of life. 

Had the impossible happened and Jeff had somehow failed to protect him, Jensen's father was ruthless enough to have gone a long way in saving his own life. Jensen doesn't know the many unsavory decisions his father made in order to stay in power. Jeff doesn't want him to know. 

"It wouldn't even be enough to abdicate," says Jensen. "So long as I'm alive, no-one has a legitimate claim to the throne. They don't need me gone, they need me dead."

Jeff sets his jaw. He should be relieved, he supposes, that Jensen is cunning enough to understand the true extent of the danger he's in, but he's always been a little in love with Jensen's smile, and it grieves him to think he may never see it again. 

Jensen braces his hands against the stone ledge of the balcony, a small figure against the desolate backdrop. He cocks his head, peering downwards at the vertical drop. "If I were inclined to be obliging, I suppose I could save us all a lot of time and effort, and throw myself over right now."

He'd fall so far he'd be dead before he hit the ground. His spirit would simply dissolve like a bad dream, leaving only an exquisite corpse and tattered black robes to be dashed upon the rocks.

Jeff crosses the distance between them and roughly drags Jensen back from the edge before he’s even aware of moving. He turns Jensen in his arms to face him, gripping his upper-arms as though he's expecting Jensen to fight him and is determined to subdue him before he starts. 

But Jensen is wide-eyed, startled by Jeff's sudden nearness. He shies away, clearly unused to being touched, to being _held_ in this manner. 

Letting loose an uneven breath, Jeff collects himself and removes his hands. 

"I apologize," he says stiffly. 

He moves to step back, but Jensen's hand darts up between them. His palm is light against Jeff's cheek. Jensen's lips part, on the edge of speech, but for a long while, he simply stands there, eyes unmoving from Jeff's face. 

"I feel like the only person in the world," Jensen says. His voice is a whisper, and Jeff can only be sure he hears it over the wind and the bells because they're standing so very close together. 

"You're not."

Greatly daring, Jeff turns his face, in order to touch his lips to the inside of Jensen's wrist, where the skin is delicate as silk. Jensen's pulse is a thread of warmth beneath the rain. A powerful thrill of excitement goes through Jeff, even at such a chaste act, and his eyes sink shut.

Jensen edges closer, and Jeff's breathing comes harder at the sensation of Jensen's lithely muscled body so close to his. With his thumb resting beneath Jeff's chin and his fingertips on Jeff's cheekbone, Jensen tilts Jeff's face back to his. 

The gleam in his eyes is desperate, starved even. There's a pink flush tingeing his cheeks, visible beneath the rainwater running over his skin. His hair is wet to the point of black and tendrils of it are curled against his forehead.

"Please," is all Jensen says. 

Jeff can't help himself. His head is fogged with wanting, and his dick aches, it has since the first time Jensen looked at him and smiled. He can't stop himself. 

He takes hold of Jensen’s face in both hands and drags him in for a bruising kiss. He ravishes his mouth with tongue and teeth, until Jensen is gasping and arching into him, his mouth beautifully swollen and dark. He tastes of nothing but the rain. 

Jeff wraps an arm around Jensen to keep him pulled in close, because he can't stop now. He has no control over himself, not when Jensen has an arm snaked around Jeff's neck and his mouth is pressed to Jeff's temple, making the sweetest sounds Jeff's ever heard. 

Jensen's body is wet and burning hot beneath sodden fabric. Jeff rips at Jensen’s robes, leaving Jensen nearly naked. Jeff’s blunt fingers leave brutal red marks on Jensen’s pale legs as he shoves the robes up his thighs. He walks them backwards, easily lifts Jensen off his feet and sets him on the ledge. 

The overriding need to get inside Jensen, to do everything he wants to him before sanity takes hold, gives him the same knife's-edge clarity as battle itself. One hand releasing his thickening cock from his breeches, Jeff grips Jensen's knee in the other, and uses his hip to spread Jensen's thighs up and apart, to make a space for himself between his legs. 

Jensen's still shivering, trembling right down to his belly, but he hangs on to Jeff's shoulder as all the safety he needs. His eyes are held on Jeff's face, vividly green and long-lashed at this proximity 

Reveling in what he has before him, Jeff runs the flat of his hand along the slippery-smooth skin of Jensen's inner thigh, fists Jensen's already leaking prick and has to restrain a growl in response to the near-hurt noise Jensen makes. The rain runs in rivulets down Jensen's legs, drips like tears from his dark lashes. 

He's heart-stoppingly beautiful. Jeff is so overcome with wanting him that, for a moment, he can't move to take him. 

Then Jeff captures Jensen's mouth again, a kiss to stifle the noise he knows Jensen's going to make because Jeff is big enough that it's going to hurt. Spitting on his palm and slicking himself, Jeff guides the thick head of his cock to Jensen's hole. He uses two fingers to push and press the meat of his dick in, forcing his way inside, while Jensen squirms and whines fretfully against Jeff's mouth. 

His body tenses as Jeff sinks into him. Fingernails scrabbling at the back of Jeff's neck and at his shoulder to hang on, Jensen tries to open up wider, to ease Jeff in more gently. He's too frantic, so Jeff does it for him: hooking one of Jensen's knees over his elbow to steady him as he slides a few more inches into him. Jensen's ass clenches at the penetration, hot enough inside that Jeff grunts and digs in deeper. Jensen struggles on instinct, but Jeff holds him through it.

"Hush, sweetheart," Jeff mutters, kissing the dip at the corner of Jensen's lips to distract him from how much he's making Jensen take. Jeff kisses his frown of distress too, all the while continuing to fuck his way in. 

At last, Jensen falls to panting, head bowed and his fingers digging into Jeff's shoulder. Taking advantage of Jensen's pliancy in his arms, Jeff slides his hands down Jensen's spine to take hold of Jensen's ass. He enjoys the firm roundness, rubs a fingertip around where he's shoved inside. 

He scratches his bearded cheek against Jensen's smooth jaw, half-lifts Jensen from the balcony, and spears him right down on his dick. 

The clinging heat of Jensen's body drags a raw groan from Jeff, even as Jensen jerks like he's been stabbed. Jeff's balls nestle snugly against the spread cheeks of Jensen's ass. He's grateful for the chill of the rain cooling his over-heated skin.

He shouldn't be fucking Jensen like this. Jensen's too young for him, too shaky with grief and fear. If he was going to do this, he should have brought Jensen to his bed and taken his time with him. 

He shouldn't be rutting into him like an animal. 

He shouldn't be fucking _the King_.

It's like damnation: too late to turn back, too good to regret it. Jeff's so deep inside Jensen he'd swear he can feel Jensen's frantic heartbeat against his dick. Tenderness overtakes the need to fill Jensen with his seed, to see him wet and used.

Moistening his own lips, Jeff eases Jensen's face from where he's hidden it in the crook of Jeff's neck. Jensen looks wretchedly debauched, and all the more appealing for it. Jeff wants to tell him that he would come back from Hell itself for Jensen. He wants to promise murder and wars in Jensen's name.

Before Jeff can offer any of it, Jensen leans in and touches his tongue to Jeff's, licking a shallow but filthy kiss. 

Jeff seizes Jensen's haunches once more, and fucks Jensen's body onto his cock. With each slam, Jensen's breath hitches in a gasp, increasingly urgent. Jeff's own rough grunts are getting louder and harder. He crushes Jensen's body to his own, unwilling to let his cock slip from where he's buried it in Jensen for so much as a second. Jensen bounces on his dick, one arm around Jeff's shoulders and the other hand braced against Jeff's breastplate, his legs curled around Jeff's middle.

Pressure and heat build inside Jeff, centered on where he's driving into Jensen's body. His grip on Jensen's hips is slippery with sweat and the unending rain, but he holds on fiercely. 

A violent groan escaping his lips, Jeff grinds in hard - once, twice, holding Jensen down on his dick as he puts a load in him, fills him up wet. His spine stiffens like a shock's passed through it. For a moment, his vision whites out and every nerve is lit up and alive. 

Distantly, he hears Jensen cry out, a sound that soars above the bells and the rainfall. Something hot and slick spills between them as Jensen finds his own climax. 

Jeff's still breathing hard, his heart rocketing so fast in his chest it jars every bone in his body. The strain goes out of his shoulders. He's left loose and humming, while Jensen leans against him, shivering for an entirely different reason than before. 

Jeff touches Jensen's cheek, disoriented and reverent, and Jensen smiles back at him mindlessly. He rests his forehead against Jensen's while he eases his cock out of Jensen's fucked hole. The moment he's free, a flood of his come races down Jensen's thighs, and Jeff feels a prickle of primitive satisfaction at the sight. 

He tucks himself away, before making an effort to settle Jensen's robes back into some semblance of decency, tugging the rain-soaked fabric back down his legs. He can't take Jensen back in there looking so freshly fucked, not when his soldiers must surely have heard what Jeff just did to their new king. If they're wise though, they'll realize that they now have Jeff's vengeance to fear should they let anything happen to Jensen. 

He helps Jensen stand, and Jensen gazes up at him with hazy eyes. 

"I think I'll rest now," he tells Jeff. 

Jeff inclines his head respectfully. "Yes, Your Majesty."

Following Jensen in, Jeff closes the doors behind him and leaves the rain outside.


End file.
